


How to Go On

by HuntsCunt



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntsCunt/pseuds/HuntsCunt
Summary: George appears at Lando's door before qualifying in Bahrain. And he does not look good.
Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell, Lando Norris/George Russell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	How to Go On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noblydonedonnanoble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/gifts).



> It hit me today that Alex is not going to be on the grid come March, and I'm still in denial, I think.
> 
> For all of my friends that I miss so much.

Lando could have sworn he heard a knock at his door. Glancing over at his clock, it read 12:30 AM. Lando sighed at his overactive and annoying imagination and flipped over, trying to get the sleep he desperately needs before qualifying in Bahrain tomorrow. This is an important race for them – in a way, their home race. The Prince would be there, and he needed to do well. Sleep was necessary for that.  
But before Lando could even finish that thought, he heard the knock again, this time slightly softer, as if giving up. He shouldn’t get up and answer it, he knows, but the knock sounded…sad? Could a knock sound sad? Not wanting to go down that ridiculous train of thought, Lando pulled himself out of bed and towards the door. He opened it ready to be annoyed until he saw who it was, or more precisely, how it was. Or how he was. George.  
George looked horrible. He had had an ok day on track, but no one expected much more out of the Williams. But George’s eyes were red and swollen, like he had been crying, his shoulders hunched, ready to slink off when no one answered, and his gaze lowered, embarrassed at being at Lando’s door so late at night.  
“George, are you ok?” What a stupid question – clearly George was not okay, but Lando didn’t know what else to say. George quickly shook his head, and Lando stepped back from the doorway to invite him inside. George stepped through the threshold, and as soon as the door was closed, Lando turned to George, who had slowly walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed.  
“George, what’s wrong?”  
“I miss him. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard.” George’s voice broke on the word “this,” and he started to softly cry. Lando sat down on the bed next to George, putting his arm around him.  
Lando knew that the “he” was Alex. He wasn’t quite sure the extent of Alex and George’s relationship, but he knew they were something more than friends. Not the brotherly bond of him and Carlos, but not the full out relationship of Dan and Max either. Something in between; something uniquely them. He had always thought of it as “best friends plus.”  
“It’s ok to miss him, George,” Lando tried comforting his fellow Brit, though this wasn’t necessarily his strong suit. He continued with what he knew. “I miss Carlos, too. I know it’s not the same – at least he’s still here, at the track, but I do miss him.”  
George, resting his head on Lando’s shoulder, looked up at him with a small smile. “I know you do. It’s just, we’ve raced together every year since we were kids, you know. I always imagined we’d take this journey together – and we did. Until now.” A slow tear fell from George’s long eyelashes and onto his cheek. Lando wiped the tear off with his thumb, then without thinking, grabbed George’s chin between his two fingers and brought him up for a kiss.  
Panic set in Lando’s stomach as their lips touched. It was a thoroughly chaste kiss, but Lando pulled away immediately. “I’m so sorry! You just looked so sad, I just wanted to make you feel better. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”  
“Shut up,” George interrupted him, and pulled Lando in for a kiss that was definitely not chaste. George forcefully pushed his tongue into Lando’s mouth, who greedily accepted it, drinking in George’s warmth and desperation.  
It was only when George reached between Lando’s legs that Lando truly pushed George away. “Stop, stop,” Lando gasped. “We can’t do this. What about Alex?”  
“Didn’t you hear what I said before? Alex isn’t here. He’s not here – it’s just me, alone,” George’s voice growled angrily, but softening at the word alone. He then started crying again – really crying. “It’s just me. I’m alone.” George looked up at Lando, begging, with tears in his eyes. “Please, I just don’t want to feel alone for one moment.”  
George tried to go in for another kiss, but Lando pushed him away again. “You’ll regret it later. Doing this will only hurt Alex.” Everything felt strange to Lando – he was comforting George, being the adult with George. It was always the other way around, but here he was, being the voice of reason even as George’s yearnings certainly had an effect on him. But he knew George would regret it as soon as it happened, and he didn’t want George to hurt any more.  
“Please,” George begged, “Please distract me. Help me to forget, I don’t care if I hurt him – I’m just so fucking angry. He’s supposed to be here! Why isn’t he here?” George stood up from the bed, ranting now. “That’s the worst part of this. I’m so mad at him, but it’s not even his fault. I know he would be here if he could. And I can’t talk to him about it because he’s the one that got fucked, not me. Here he is losing his career, and I’m over here, waiting to be the next crowned Prince of Mercedes. So, I’m just supposed to play the good and comforting friend. But guess what? I hurt, too. This isn’t what I wanted either. And I’m mad at him, and Red Bull, and weirdly Max, and most of all, FUCKING Christian Horner and Helmut Marko.” George took a huge breath, almost beginning to hyperventilate.  
He looked straight at Lando, “I can’t do this without him. What am I supposed to do?”  
Lando grabbed George’s wrist, and pulled him onto the bed and into an embrace, spooning him. He stroked George’s blonde, silky hair as he sniffled next to him.  
“You’re supposed to go on.”  
George grabbed Lando’s hand and pulled it tight into his chest. “Thank you. I’m sorry for bothering you.”  
Lando squeezed George. “It’s no bother. You can come here for company any time you feel lonely. I know it’s not the same. I’m not Alex. But I am someone.”  
“You’re Lando,” George lightly joked, trying a smile. “Can I stay the night?”  
“Of course. But no more hanky panky.”  
“I promise, but only if you promise to block some cars so I can get to Q2 tomorrow.”  
“Only if you promise to shut up soon, so I can get some sleep.”  
“Deal,” George replied, cuddling in closer to Lando.  
Lando knew he could never be what Alex was…is…to George. But hopefully, his friend knew he could still come to him whenever he felt lonely. And they could help each other go on.


End file.
